by Tina Folsom
It took a few more seconds, until he could stop his cock from thrusting against her.
Breathing heavily, he let go of her lips and rested his forehead against hers.
Rochelle’s chest heaved. “I think we both need a shower now.”
He grinned involuntarily and put a finger under her chin, lifting her face. He looked into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and covered with a soft sheen.
“I can’t wait for our weekend together. Though I have to warn you: I don’t think either of us will get a lot of sleep.”
She brushed her hand through his hair and caressed his nape. “Sleep is overrated.”
He laughed. “I’m glad you think so, too.”
21
Rochelle dialed her brother’s number once more, but like this morning, Steve didn’t answer. This time she left him a longer, more detailed message.
“Steve, I wired you the rest of the money this morning. Please contact your bank to make sure it’s there. And please call me back so I don’t have to worry about you. Ok?” She sighed. “You can reach me on my cell over the weekend. I won’t be home.”
She disconnected the call. Considering that she’d taken out a small loan from her bank in order to help Steve, the least he could do was call her and thank her. But she wouldn’t allow the fact that he hadn’t done that to destroy her good mood. Shortly, she’d be on her way to the Hamptons to meet up with Zach. She’d already filled up the tank of her car, and a small packed bag lay in its trunk.
Now all she needed to do was to talk to her boss and inform him that even freezing Zach’s bank accounts hadn’t caused him to reveal any hidden accounts. Because Zach was innocent. She didn’t doubt it anymore.
Rochelle put her cell phone back into her pocket and took a deep breath. The sound of her high heels echoed in the bare staircase, where she’d withdrawn so her colleagues in the cubicles next to hers wouldn’t be able to overhear her telephone call to Steve.
She marched back into the open plan office and headed for her desk in order to get the report she needed to show Yochum so he would sign off on closing the investigation against Zach.
“Rochelle, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
Rochelle looked over her shoulder and saw Antonio approach her. “Why’s that?”
He motioned to the manila envelope in his hand. “This just came for you. The courier said it was urgent.”
Curious, she took the envelope. “Thanks.” She stopped and opened it. When she looked inside, all she saw was one piece of paper. She pulled it out. On the upper part, a few lines of a message were typed out. The lower part was a copy of a bank statement.
In front of her eyes everything blurred.
Oh God, no! That couldn’t be true. It was impossible.
“Is something wrong?” Antonio asked suddenly. “You’re white as a sheet. Are you sick?”
She lifted her head, unable to utter a single word. Because she wasn’t just sick, she’d never felt so betrayed in her entire life.
Her heart broke into a thousand pieces, and she did her best to suppress a sob. No, she wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t worth it.
~ ~ ~
Zach could barely contain his excitement and looked at his watch again. If Rochelle wasn’t stuck in traffic, which so often clogged up the streets of Long Island on a Friday night, when New Yorkers fled the city to relax at their beach houses, then she would be arriving any moment.
The champagne was already cooling, the refrigerator was filled with all kinds of delicious foods, and his living room and bedroom were ready for a romantic encounter. Outside on the terrace he’d prepared everything so that he and Rochelle could jump into the hot tub or the swimming pool before dinner—naked, if she wanted to, since his property was surrounded by large hedges that afforded privacy. Beyond the garden lay a boat dock where his sailboat was docked and ready to be taken out on the water the next day.
It had been a while since he’d brought a woman out here for the weekend. Most of the time, he came here alone or invited some of his friends, the members of the Eternal Bachelors Club, for the weekend.
He shook his head, grinning. During the last few months, the club’s size had shrunk. Since only single men were allowed to be members, Daniel and Paul had both had to resign. Jay would follow them on his wedding day. They’d founded the club during a guy’s night out at Princeton, where they’d all studied. Everybody contributed money to the club’s coffers, which the person who remained unmarried the longest would eventually win. So far, over four million dollars sat in the club’s account.
In the last few months, Zach had often thought that he would be the one who’d be the last to get married, but over the last two weeks, he’d started doubting that. Maybe even he would have to resign from the club in the near future.
When he heard a car turn into his driveway, he sucked in a deep breath and filled his lungs with the scent of clean ocean air, which drifted into the house through the open French doors leading to the veranda. His heart drummed excitedly in his chest.
With a broad smile he marched to the entrance door and opened it, just as Rochelle was about to ring the doorbell.
“Rochelle…” The rest of his greeting got stuck in his throat.
Rochelle wasn’t alone.
Behind her, Miss Vasquez and Mr. Esposito walked up to the entrance of his house. All three were dressed as if on their way to the office, carrying briefcases.
“Mr. Ivers,” Rochelle started, her voice formal and cold. She was so very different from the woman he’d been with the night before.
She hadn’t come for a romantic weekend, that much was immediately evident. Involuntarily, Zach stiffened.
Rochelle lifted her hand, and only now he saw the folded piece of paper she was holding. “We have a subpoena to search your house.”
The announcement hit him like a punch in the gut. Or a knife in his heart. For a moment he couldn’t produce any sound from his dry throat. Rochelle had gotten a subpoena to search his house? Had she already been planning this last night? Had she maybe even snooped around in his penthouse while he—exhausted from their lovemaking—had slept like the dead?
“A subpoena?” With a robotic movement, he reached for it and scanned it. It was signed by a judge and appeared genuine. He lifted his gaze and stared at her, but Rochelle avoided his eyes. “What for?”
She cleared her throat. “We have reason to believe that you’re keeping documentation about a hidden bank account here. The account with which those illegal stock trades were made. Please let us enter.”
Without a word, he moved to the side, and Rochelle motioned her colleagues to go ahead. The two nodded briefly, greeting him, before entering the house.
Zach stepped into Rochelle’s path before she could follow them. From between clenched teeth, he ground out, “What’s going on here?”
Rochelle narrowed her eyes. “I wanted to ask you the same thing. You used me. The entire time you lied to me, even though you knew what you’d done.”
From inside the house, Esposito’s voice sounded. “Well, then let’s get to work.”
“Yes, of course, I’m coming,” she replied quickly to her colleague and tried to squeeze past him, but Zach didn’t allow it.
He looked over his shoulder and forced an indifferent expression onto his face. “Go ahead and start so we can get this over with. I’ll just need to have a quick word with Miss Wright.” When he turned back to Rochelle, he dropped his friendly mask. “Because you and I have a few things to discuss.”
He heard the footsteps of the two SEC agents as they walked upstairs to where the bedrooms were located. As soon as they were out of earshot, he took a few steps back and let Rochelle enter. But if she thought that she could escape him now, she’d thought wrong.
“Did you know about this last night? Did you know you’d show up here today with your people?” he snarled, deeply hurt. He let his eyes wander over her strict business suit. “And I thought we could r
eally have something. Damn it, I’ve fallen in love with you! What an idiot I’ve been, and you just used me. Spied on me.”
He motioned around the room with his hand, indicating the living area, where a champagne bottle was chilling in an ice bucket. “I really thought you’d spend the weekend with me, because you have feelings for me.” He huffed and ground his teeth. “Apparently I was wrong.”
“You’re not the only one who was wrong about somebody.” Her voice trembled when she finally answered. “After all the lies you dished up…” She turned fully to him, her eyes filled with pain and fury. “All the time you assured me that you’re innocent. And I believed you.” She bent closer, while her gaze darted to the staircase to verify that her colleagues were still upstairs. “I really believed that you slept with me, because you wanted me, and not because you…”
With one step, he bridged the last bit of space that separated them. “Because I what?”
“Because you wanted to influence the outcome of the investigation.” She fairly spit the words out.
“I have nothing to hide. I haven’t done anything wrong. So why the witch hunt? Is this how you treat all men? Do you hate men that much?”
He could see her lips tremble; she was losing her composure.
“Mr. Ivers?” Esposito called out from the landing on the upper floor.
“Yes?” he asked without turning.
“Do you have a home office?”
He nodded and motioned to a door to the left of the foyer. “Down here.”
He heard the employee descend. But in front of the office, he stopped without entering. “Oh.”
Zach turned fully. “What else?”
Esposito pointed to an antique desk that stood at the end of the hallway. “Rochelle, look.”
Rochelle followed Esposito’s outstretched hand and took a few steps in its direction.
“What is this about?” Zach looked at Esposito, but the man didn’t answer.
Instead he marched toward the desk and opened the drawers. They were empty. Then he crouched underneath it and knocked against the wood. When he pounded against it more vigorously, Zach had enough.
“A subpoena doesn’t give you the right to destroy my property.”
Esposito reached between the wooden slats. “A false bottom.” He pulled a handful of papers from it and looked at them.
Automatically, Zach approached him, but Rochelle was faster and took the sheets of paper from Esposito’s hand.
“That’s it.” Slowly, she turned to him. “That’s the bank account from which the illegal trade was made.”
Zach grabbed the papers and scanned them. They were bank statements from the Inter Commerce and Trade Bank, the same bank Wade had mentioned in connection with the stock trade.
“That’s not my account.” He pointed to the name, John Miller.
Rochelle shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line as if she didn’t want to answer.
“Then why do you have these bank statements in your house?” Esposito asked. “Hidden in the false bottom of a desk of all places!”
Zach ignored him and grabbed Rochelle’s arm. He didn’t care anymore if Esposito realized now that there was something between him and Rochelle. “Rochelle, you can’t possibly believe that. Somebody is trying to pin this on me. You have to see that.”
Rochelle sniffled, but then she lifted her head and stiffened. “I’m sure that on Monday when we contact the bank, we’ll find out that you were the one who opened this account.” She pulled her shoulders back. “Mr. Ivers, please give me your passport. You’re not allowed to leave New York State, otherwise you’ll be arrested immediately.”
The words sounded as if she’d rehearsed them and a robot was now rattling them off. He barely listened. He could only stare at her in disbelief.
Somebody had planted fake evidence in his house and given the SEC instructions on where to find it. How could Rochelle not see through that? How could she not see that somebody was trying to frame him? Why couldn’t she trust him? Had not a single minute of their time together been real? Had she pretended everything that had passed between them?
“I have no intention of going anywhere,” he said and lifted his chin as a sign that he accepted her challenge. “I’m going to disprove these allegations. And once I have, you’ll owe me an apology.”
But he knew that an apology wouldn’t be able to repair the rift between them. And that fact clamped around his heart like an iron fist that squeezed tightly and filled his entire body with pain.
22
The two and a half hour drive back to Manhattan had been torture. Rochelle had been silent most of the time, pretending to concentrate on the nighttime traffic, while Nicole and Antonio had practically been celebrating their success. Rochelle didn’t feel like celebrating. Until the very last moment she’d held on to the hope that Zach was innocent. But to find the bank account statements, which had been used for a large stock trade of Ivers International shares, had dashed her hopes.
Zach had lied to her. In fact, he was still lying to her, still claiming that the account wasn’t his. As if a fake name on a statement could protect him. Getting a fake ID wasn’t hard, particularly not for a man like Zach, who had enough money to buy anything he needed.
Anything but her love and respect.
She tried to convince herself that she was better off without him, but she was only lying to herself. She still wanted him, despite the lies and the deception. But she was realistic enough to know that a relationship between them was now out of the question. And the faster she accepted this, the better.
“Where would you like me to drop you off, Nicole?” she asked as they crossed Brooklyn on the freeway.
“Take the exit on Tillary Street. There’s a bus stop right there. Just drop me off and then you can get back on the freeway on the other side,” Nicole answered from the backseat.
“Are you sure? I’m happy to drive you all the way home.”
Nicole bent forward through the gap between the two front seats. “Don’t worry. I always take the bus from here.”
A few minutes later, Nicole got out and Rochelle drove back onto the freeway heading for the Brooklyn Bridge.
“Do you want me to let you out at Columbus Park?” She tossed Antonio a sideways glance.
“Yeah, that works.” It seemed as if he wanted to add something, but he didn’t. Only once Rochelle had crossed the bridge and turned into a side street, her colleague opened his mouth again. “I don’t want to be nosy or anything, but you and Ivers…”
Her breath caught, and involuntarily she hit the brakes. Behind her, somebody honked. Quickly, she lifted her hand in apology and sped up again.
So Antonio had noticed that she and Zach had treated each other more intimately than was usual between agent and suspect. “Antonio, that’s…” She didn’t really know how to reply. It was over between them, but that didn’t change anything about the fact that she’d been involved with a man whom she investigated.
“You should be careful. Nicole didn’t notice anything, I think. She’s too naive, but if others get wind of it and tell Yochum, then you’ll get in trouble.”
“And you? Are you gonna tell him?” She tossed him a sideways glance and pulled over at the next corner.
Antonio looked at her, seemingly surprised. “Me? I like the boss as much as half the employees, which is to say, I can’t stand him. He’s never gonna find out from me. Believe me. Besides, you did your job despite your relationship with Ivers.”
She sighed and stared out the windshield. “We don’t have a relationship. At least not anymore. He lied to me. He assured me that he was innocent.” A sob tore from her chest. “He used me.”
She felt Antonio’s hand squeezing her shoulder briefly. “I’m sorry. He fooled me, too, if that’s any consolation. Everything looked so clean. Nothing was out of order. I just don’t understand why a guy like him needed to cheat in the first place. He’s got everything.” Antonio shook his
head. “Well, maybe we’ll find another reason why those statements were in his house.”
She pulled a tissue from her purse and blew her nose. “What kind of reason? There can’t be any other reason.” She gave her colleague a sad look. “It’s nice of you to try to give me hope, but I’ve seen the evidence. And it’s black and white. The statements were exactly where that letter told us they would be.”
“Hmm,” Antonio grunted. “Strange that somebody knew about that. He doesn’t strike me as so dumb that he would tell somebody about that hiding place. And it doesn’t look like he has a wife or a girlfriend who might have noticed.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Oh, sorry. That was thoughtless.”
She waved him off. “That’s ok, Antonio. It’s all down the drain anyway. It can’t get much worse than it already is.”
“Chin up, huh?” He reached for the door handle. “Tomorrow it might all look better.”
She nodded. “Good night, Antonio.”
“Thanks for the ride.” He exited and slammed the passenger door shut.
A moment later she rejoined the traffic and drove toward the East Village, her thoughts occupied with her problems. She parked in the parking garage two blocks from her apartment, where she rented a spot.
Her bag was still in the trunk. She took it out now and disappointment finally hit her fully. How had all this happened? Yesterday her world had been fine. No, better than fine. She’d been happy. For a short moment. And now? She’d never felt so empty before. So desperate. How could she have been so wrong about Zach? Had she really been so naive?
By the time she reached the door to her apartment, tears were streaming down her face in thick rivers. She unlocked and placed the bag in the foyer before shutting the door behind her and bolting it.
A sob tore from her chest, then another one. The tears made it impossible for her to see or think clearly. She rested her forehead against the door.
